"And it is not the sort of thing one can conceal very long," Maggie observed. "What does your major think?"
Cynthia started twisting her hands together. "I haven't told him yet. When I do, I know he will insist that I leave Oliver and live with him."
"It will be a scandal, but hardly unique. Perhaps that would be the best solution."
For the first time, Cynthia's voice became uneven. "You don't know my husband. Oliver is horribly vindicative, and he would sue Michael for criminal conversation. Michael is not a rich man-he would be ruined. His military career would be over, and both our families would be disgraced."
In a whisper, she finished, "And it would break my father's heart." She buried her face in her hands as sobs overcame her. Between gulps for bream, she managed to say, "Worst of all, I fear that Michael would come to hate me for ruining his life."
Maggie crossed quickly to sit next to her guest on the sofa, putting one arm around her to give what comfort she could. Fiercely she cursed the inflexible marriage laws that kept husband and wife tied together no matter how wretched they were.
When Cynthia's sobs abated, Maggie handed over a fresh handkerchief and said, "Your choices are limited. You can stay with your husband or leave. If you leave, you can return to your father, live with your major, or perhaps set up an independent establishment."
Cynthia straightened, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief. "It sounds simple when you put it that way. I do want to leave, but it will be very difficult. Oliver would be injured in his purse as well as his pride, for my father's money supports us. My dowry is long gone, of course, but Papa sends an allowance that I use for household expenses. That would stop if I left. With the amount that Oliver loses gambling, he might be unable to maintain an establishment if I wasn't there." She lifted a nervous hand to brush back a loose strand of hair. "Though perhaps he could manage. He always seems to have money."
An alarm bell went off in Maggie's mind. Northwood was an inveterate gambler with unexpected financial resources? They had concentrated on investigating the assassination plot since that was most urgent, but there was also the matter of a possible spy in the British delegation. If there was such a person, the mysterious Le Serpent might be using his services. Since Maggie heartily disliked Oliver Northwood, she was quite willing to believe him a villain. And if he was in contact with the master conspirator…
Controlling her excitement, she said casually, "His salary from the Foreign Office must help."
"It is a mere pittance, only two hundred pounds a year." Cynthia shrugged indifferently. "Perhaps he has become a cleverer gambler. If he didn't pay his debts, I suppose no one would continue to gamble with him."
"Is it possible that your husband might be involved in something he shouldn't?"
"What do you mean?"
Maggie put on her innocent face. "It's just a hope. If Northwood has some secret, he might be more easily persuaded to let you leave without causing trouble." She smiled wickedly. "I assume that part of the reason you wished to talk with me was to get the ideas of a wily European who was not raised with your English sense of fair play."
Cynthia's momentary shock swiftly turned to embarrassment. "Perhaps it was, without my being aware of it." Her expression became withdrawn as she thought about what her hostess had said. "Perhaps he is concealing something. He seemed to change when he joined the Foreign Office, and it has become more pronounced since we came to Paris. He has had more money since then, too. More than can be accounted for by his salary, I mean."
"Do you suppose he could be taking bribes?"
"He hasn't much influence to sell," Cynthia said doubtfully.
"He might pretend to more than he has," Maggie said. Bribery was common, and many people would accept bribes who would never consider spying against their country. Northwood might be one of those. Nonetheless, the possibility was worth further investigation.
Cynthia said slowly, "Several weeks ago when I was writing letters, I ran out of paper and looked in Oliver's desk for more. He happened to come in then, and became outraged when he saw what I was doing. In fact, he struck me. At the time I didn't think much about it since he is often unpredictable, but ever since then he has made a point of locking up all his papers. Do you think that's significant?"
"Possibly, possibly not. Some men are naturally furtive. But if he has some guilty secret that you could discover, it might give you ammunition to defend yourself." Maggie caught Cynthia's gaze and said soberly, "It is not a nice thing that we are talking about. Are you willing to behave so dishonorably?"
Cynthia took a deep breath, but her gaze was unwavering. "Yes. We women have few weapons at our disposal, and I would be foolish to waste one. Perhaps I can stop some greater tragedy, like a duel. I don't think Oliver would dare challenge Michael, but I could be wrong." She trembled as if a cold draft had touched her. "I couldn't bear to be the cause of Michael risking his life."
Satisfied, Maggie said, "If you are sure. Do you think you could unlock your husband's desk and study his private papers?"
Cynthia bit her lip, but nodded her head.
"You must be extremely cautious, not only in acting when he is away, but in leaving no traces of your search. Your husband has a violent temper, and if he suspects you, he could do you a serious injury. You have not only your own life to consider." Maggie put as much earnestness in her voice as she could. Though she was not particularly proud of herself for setting a wife to spy on her husband, the opportunity was too good to pass up. Moreover, if Oliver Northwood really was a spy, that fact might make it easier for Cynthia to escape him.
"I promise I will be careful." Her mouth twisted. "I know better than anyone what Oliver might do."
"If you discover anything suspicious, bring it to me first," Maggie said. "I have considerable experience of the world, and I might better understand what you have found."
Cynthia nodded again as she stood. "I can't thank you enough, Countess. Talking to you has helped enormously."
Maggie rose also. "Perhaps you should call me Magda since we are going to be conspirators. Or Maggie, if you prefer."
"Thank you, Maggie. And please, call me Cynthia." Leaning forward, she gave the older woman a heartfelt hug.
After again cautioning Cynthia to be extremely careful, Maggie showed her guest out. Then she sat back to think about what she had learned.
Quite apart from her dislike of Oliver Northwood, her instinct said that he was capable of treachery. She did not rule out the possibility that he was innocent, or guilty of no more than minor corruption. However, given the volatile situation in Paris, information was tremendously valuable. A weak man might easily succumb to temptation.
The next question was whether to tell Rafe. She frowned. While Rafe and Northwood were not close friends, they had known each other forever, and had been part of the same circle when they were young men about town. Rafe would have trouble believing that someone from that group of bluff, honest Englishmen was a traitor. It was much easier to suspect a stranger than an acquaintance.
Maggie decided that she would not tell Rafe of her suspicions unless Cynthia discovered some concrete proof. For all of their sakes, she hoped that would happen, and soon.
That evening Rafe went to the Salon des Strangers, the closest thing to a gentlemen's club in Paris. It was a rendezvous for confirmed gamblers, and many of the richest and most influential men in Paris were regular customers. Though he had visited several times in the hope of hearing something useful, so far he had had no success. Still, it felt better to be doing something than nothing.